Inferni

Chapter 7

I walked back into the bedroom and walked towards the closet. My gaze turned towards the closed door, and I could sense Declan and someone else behind there, with Declan being the nearest to the door, hesitating about something.

I walked over to the door and opened it before punching Declan in the face before knocking his legs from underneath him. I ignored this powerful... growl as I glared at my "best friend," my brother. "Stupid asshole," I seethed before turning away from him and walking to my closet.

Declan groaned and sat up, and I knew that he was clutching his nose. "Ow," he said. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I had to get a new hobby," I replied. "Because someone decided to leave the note where the Wicked Witch of the West could find it."

Declan came to the closet and leaned against it. He was blocking the door to make sure that Caroline and other male could not look into it. He knew that I had two things that I didn't want people to see. "Well, couldn't you have gotten into something else and not fighting?" he asked.

"Like what?" I asked, making sure that the wooden box and dagger were hidden as I pulled out all of the information that I had.

"I don't know s- wait, you used to sew when there was stuff needed to be sewn."

"Un huh." I shuffled through what I had gotten out, making sure that I had everything that I wanted them to see. "It's surprising what you can pick up." I turned to look at him and scowled when I saw that he was still holding his nose. "Would you clean that up?" I asked.

"What? Are you not going to do it for me?" he teased. "You used to."

I frowned but didn't say a word. I gestured for him to move out of the way and walked past him.

I used to do a lot of things when he was around. Some I still did, like taking care of the Others when they got hurt. But, some I had stopped doing, like singing and doing smiles that weren't forced.

"Blaire?" Declan asked. He didn't reach for me like I knew he wanted to. Both of his hands were stained with his blood because he had used them both to stop the bleeding.

I shook my head, not saying a word. I looked up to see Caroline, Jill, Justin, and another male in my new room, sitting on the couches that were in there. My throat went dry when I caught sight of those people, and I knew that I was going to have to tell this stuff to all of them, even though there were a lot of people.

"I'm Jason," the male that I didn't know said, standing. He had a hard look in his eyes, and I could tell that he didn't trust nor like me.

"Blaire," I said, walking over to the chairs as Declan walked into the bathroom to take care of his problem. "Declan's... uh... friend."

"Sister," Declan said, coming to me after he was finished. He grabbed some of the stuff that I had before finding a place to sit. He sat down and stared at me, that all familiar look in his eyes. "She is my sister."

My heart felt a little warmer when he called me his sister, but I didn't say anything. I walked over and sat down next to him, and Jason sat down as well.

"So," Jason said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his left leg over his other. "I heard that you were in the same orphanage as him." It was more of a statement than a question. He knew that I was.

I nodded. "Yes, Sir," I said. I licked my lips and cleared my throat. I looked at the books in my hands and cleared my throat again as I tried to gain some confidence to tell them our story. "These have my and the groups' past. Some of them are before Declan left, and others are after."

"May we see them?" Jill asked. She clutched her husband's arm as a pained look appeared in her eyes. She did not want to know, but a part of her did. She wanted to know what had happened to us and to help.

I hesitated again and nodded my head. I placed them on the table and watched as, one by one, the books disappeared until there was nothing left.

There was no sound of talking at all but the sound of pages being turned or the sound of a scoff and a cuss word.

I leaned forward and watched as the four adults looked at the pictures that I had drawn or the words that I had written, wanting to keep a record of everything that had happened in hopes of finding someone that cared.

No one did, however, not even my social worker. I had no idea who my social worker was even supposed to be because she never came to check on me like she had promised she would.

My hands started to shake as I took a deep breath, trying to calm my frayed nerves. My whole body was tense as I waited for them to say something, anything.

"Was it... this bad? Your bedroom?" Jason asked, and I nodded. He looked up, frowning. Disgust filled his eyes, and I looked down and cleared my throat because I thought he was looking at me in disgust.

Declan placed his hand on mine and rubbed them, understanding what I was feeling. "He isn't looking at you in disgust," he said bitterly. "He is looking at the bedroom in disgust. Trust me, sleeping with nothing but dirty blankets will curve anyone's lips in disgust."

I hesitated but nodded my head. I wanted to believe him, I really did, but the doubt that appeared in my head wouldn't let me go.

I had no idea if Declan was telling the truth, even though a part of me did. I knew that I had self-confidence issues and knew that I had to work on it, but I didn't know when or how I was supposed to do that.

Let's hope that this place was the place that would keep me. If not, then I had no idea where I would go when I turned eighteen.